


A Share of Joy and Sorrow

by bluegeekEM



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Maturing, Parenthood, References to anxiety, Secrets, Sharing, Siblings, confidant, figure skating, figuring out life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-09 12:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10412178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegeekEM/pseuds/bluegeekEM
Summary: For reasons thatcompletely escape him, people seem to be drawn to trust Yuuri.  It's been this way for as long as he can remember, and at this point he has learned to just smile, nod, and occasionally blackmail a warm drink from whomever is sharing their deepest, darkest, or silliest secrets with him that day.





	1. Childhood, Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a prompt at the dreamwidth yurionice kink meme:
> 
> _Yuuri is mistaken for a good listener and people come to tell him gossips and secrets; Yuuri being who he is just smile politely and say some generic advice while screaming WHY! inside his head. Overtime he has collected so many rumors and secrets he has no idea what to do with aside from using them to get free coffee, and people still wouldn't leave him alone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains references to childbirth and a brief reference to childhood bullying.

_“We are all, in a sense, experts on secrecy. From earliest childhood we feel its mystery and attraction. We know both the power it confers and the burden it imposes. We learn how it can delight, give breathing space and protect.”_ -Sissela Bok 

**

In the beginning, Yuri was far too young to understand the concept of secrets, but it hardly mattered given that he had yet to master vocalization.

** ** **

With his wife resting in the hospital bed, covers tucked up to her chin, Toshiya sat in the nearby chair with his son in his arms. Visiting hours were nearly over and soon Toshiya would have to return to the onsen to see to Mari and their guests. His eldest was in the capable hands of her grandmother, but Hiroko would want a full report on how Mari was handling the current change in her life and transition to being a big sister.

But for now, he had this time with his newest child, his son.

The baby had given them a scare towards the end of labor, with his heart rate dropping and causing the midwife to encourage Hiroko into a number of positions to try and resolve the problem. After a long minute, the disquietingly slow thump from the monitor sped up into a far more reassuring drumbeat and the lines of strain above the midwife’s mask relaxed. 

Although there were no further scares after that moment, Toshiya’s own heart did not feel as though it slowed back to normal until two hours later when the small, slippery baby finally emerged, complete with umbilical cord wrapped around his neck and quickly released by the midwife, and began to yell his disapproval to the world.

And now the baby lay swaddled in his arms, drowsing with his eyes mostly closed, though opening periodically to squint around as though to check as if his change in location was real. 

Much like it had with his daughter seven years before, Toshiya’s heart felt full to bursting, a feeling somehow both longed-for and unexpected at the same time. Toshiya rubbed his forefinger in the baby’s tiny palm, smiling as his son grasped him with surprisingly strong fingers.

“Welcome, son. Listen carefully, because I have something important to tell you.” At the sound of his voice, the baby’s eyes opened and Toshiya had the impression that the baby was waiting for him to continue speaking. “I am already proud of you.”

** ** **

Hiroko inclined her head respectfully and nodded along as her mother lectured her - again! - on the importance of eating properly during her rest time after little Yuuri’s birth. This came only a few hours after the lecture on using her mother’s presence to heal from the birth and actually rest.

Rest. With a newborn to care for – ha!

Fortunately, this reprimand was a brief one – Yuuri’s increasingly loud squalling did not leave much opportunity for a lengthy sermon – and by the time the baby was settled and eating happily, Hiroko’s mother had gathered up the half-empty lunch tray and bustled out of the room.

Exhausting as it was, Yuuri’s insistence upon eating every two hours did serve to provide Hiroko with something of a buffer against her mother’s well meaning though chafing criticisms. By the time the baby finished, Hiroko had begun to listen for the sound of her mother gathering her things to go meet Mari from school. While she was gone, Hiroko should have just enough time to fix herself a snack and clean up the evidence of her escapades in the temporarily off limits kitchen. 

She smiled down at her son’s drowsy, milk-drunk face. “Well, I am glad at least one of us has enjoyed our meal!” Hiroko held Yuuri against her chest and rubbed his back to coax a burp from him before he fell asleep.

“I will tell you this, my Yuuri. Children do not have to grow up to be their parents. And I certainly did not learn my cooking skills from your grandmother.” Hiroko smiled and nuzzled against the soft fuzz of her son’s head. “And I will trust you not to tell her: as much as I am happy to have her help, I look forward to when Mother returns home and I am back in charge of the cooking!”

** ** **

Mari hovered over Yuuri where he lay on he blanket-covered floor surrounded by toys and dodged his attempts to grab her hair. He wiggled around a lot and grabbed at everything within reach – including her hair! – but when he’d thrown or pushed all of his toys out of reach, he wasn’t able to get them back on his own.

That’s where Mari came in. While mom cooked in the nearby kitchen and dad was busy with the visitors, Mari’s job was to do her schoolwork and entertain Yuuri. 

Well, the baby wasn’t officially her job, but it was a task that she had appointed to herself once she realized that she always knew what the baby wanted even when everyone else seemed pretty clueless. So Mari took it upon herself to be his protector. She collected his favorite toys for him, warned mom when he was getting hungry before he started whimpering, sang songs she learned at school and on the radio that was always playing when it was cleaning and laundry time, and if the onsen visitors ever got too loud while Yuuri was sleeping, Mari was quick to shush them (and earn herself a reprimand, not that it would ever stop her).

Right now, Mari’s schoolwork was nearly done and Yuuri wanted to talk. 

Well, he wanted to gurgle and be talked to. So long as Mari kept up a steady stream of chatter – everything from that week’s school lessons to television programs to gossip that she definitely wasn’t supposed to be listening in to from the guests – then Yuuri remain rapt, eyes locked on her face and fingers shoved into his mouth. It was in her best interests to keep talking because when she paused in her storytelling, Yuuri would turn his focus to the dangling strands of her hair and reach out slobbery hands to grasp at it.

So Mari told him everything about her day. She even told him about Hisashi picking on Naoko before school and how Mari found Naoko crying in the bathroom.

“This is a secret, Yuuri,” Mari told him solemnly as she finished up her tale of the day’s drama. “You mustn’t tell anyone.” 

Yuuri’s determined sucking him his fingers paused at her words, his eyes glued to hers as she punctuated each word with an imperious finger tap to his chest.

“I told her to pour glitter from the art project on his hair.”

Yuuri’s face broke into a huge smile around his fingers, and he giggled as Mari tickled his belly. 

“Yes, I thought it was a good plan, too. He will think better of picking on people next time if he has green sparkly hair all day.” She looked down at her brother, seeing his eyes still locked on her face.

“Mari, what are you and Yuuri doing out here?”

Uh oh. Mari really hoped that her mom hadn’t heard the end of their conversation. 

“We’re talking, mom. About my day at school. Yuuri is a good listener.”


	2. Childhood, Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains brief references to childhood bullying, teen smoking, and alcohol.

_Childhood has its secrets and its mysteries; but who can tell or who can explain them!_ -Max Muller

**

Later, it just seemed… normal? I mean, secrets just sort of _happened_ , right? You would have a conversation with someone without others around and it had potential to become something special, shared just between the two of you.

** ** **

When she was old enough, Hiroko enrolled Mari in Miss Minako’s ballet school. Although Mari didn’t hate it, after the first few months passed and the newness wore off, her interest began to wane. She also didn’t like to be continually harassed to practice, whether that harassment came from her mother, her grandmother, or her teacher. 

As Yuuri got older, Mari began to notice that Yuuri was always in her orbit when she practiced. At first he watched with wide eyes and a chapped thumb in his mouth, later graduating to mimicking her movement clumsily.

Being observed somehow dulled Mari’s annoyance at having to practice, and soon she was purposefully slowing down her movements to show Yuuri how to do them properly – or as properly as a little kid like him could. When she corrected him or told him to do the same move over and over again he rarely whined or fought with her, instead doing as ordered with a stubbornly determined expression on his face.

Mom and Dad would smile at them when they found them play-practicing together, and Mom even commented on how nice it was that now Yuuri was too busy holding his arms the right way to suck on his thumb anymore. Yuuri stuck his lower lip out and scowled slightly, but didn’t waver from his mirroring of Mari’s sweeping gestures.

After class one day when her mother lingered to talk with Miss Minako, Mari pushed Yuuri into the main studio and showed him how she performed her recital dance on the shiny wood floors surrounded by huge mirrors. Yuuri seemed overwhelmed at first, but soon allowed himself to be lured into joining Mari in performing her part of the performance. He had practiced with her for so long, Mari knew that he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to match her movements.

When they were done they heard clapping coming from the side of the room and spun around to see Mom and Miss Minako with smiles on their faces.

“Why, Yuuri! I had no idea that you had so much interest in ballet! Hiroko! How could you have hidden such talent away from me?” Miss Minako waved her arms elaborately. 

“Oh, Minako, hush. I don’t think he’s ready to dance without Mari around, I’m afraid. He’ll barely show Toshiya and myself his moves unless she performs alongside him, so I don’t think he would assimilate well to the toddler class alone. I plan to enroll him when he is older and ready.”

“Hmmm. Shy, is he? Well, since he seems to be fairly capable of keeping up with Mari, I don’t see why he couldn’t sit in on her classes and join in when he feels more comfortable. He is hardly a disruptive sort, in any case, and I’d hate to see all Mari’s hard work as a tutor go to waste.”

Mari grinned at the pride in Miss Minako’s voice as she praised her efforts. Once it became clear to her that Miss Minako was wearing her mom down and would soon have her way, Mari turned to Yuuri and grabbed his hands, spinning them around and around while he giggled.

“Don’t tell them, Yuuri, but I think you are going to better at this than anyone in my class.”

** ** **

Yuuri loved helping his mom while she cooked. Even when the inn was full, she was always calm and able to spare a smile and a hug for her children. When they had the luxury of time, Yuuri was allowed to join her and help cook for their family. 

Cooking with his mother felt like performing magic; learning to prepare the different foods, measure out spices, and mix everything together in the correct way felt powerful and strong. His mom was patient teacher, gently correcting Yuuri’s knife skills, showing him how to analyze how a recipe was coming together and make corrections if it wasn’t developing properly, and teaching him to explore tastes and search for perfection.

She was also generous in offering Yuuri treats as they cooked, handing him a pinch of dough or spoonful of whatever was simmering on the stove, accompanied by a small smile and finger pressed to her lips as Yuuri giggled and gleefully snatched the offering from her hand.

** ** **

“Yuuri? Can you come here for a moment? I’d like to talk to you.” 

“Yes, Miss Minako,” Yuuri replied, grabbing his bag and running his hands through his hair in an effort to push it down neatly. 

“Oh, don’t look so worried, Yuuri,” Miss Minako reassured him. “You aren’t in trouble. I wanted to talk to you about trying something new.”

“A new dance?”

“Actually, I think that you should take some ice skating lessons at the Ice Castle. I think your skills and strengths in ballet could translate well into figure skating.” Miss Minako’s voice was warm, though her face was earnest.

“But I am _your_ student, Miss Minako! I don’t want to stop dancing!”

“And you don’t have to, Yuuri. Many skaters will do both because ballet is very suited to supporting figure skating. But I do want you to expand in ways that you cannot here with ballet alone. Have you ever been ice skating before?”

“Yes. I took skating lessons at the ice rink.” Yuuri paused for a moment before admitting, “A mean bigger kid pushed me and said I was fat.” Yuuri frowned at the remembered shame. “I didn’t like it.”

“Hmmm. Skating? Or the bully?” Miss Minako asked.

“Well… the just the bully, I guess. The skating was kind of fun and there was a nice girl there, too, who liked it a lot.” Yuuri began to smile as his memory of that day continued to unravel. “Her name is Yuuko and she was in the class for the bigger kids. She yelled at the bully and told him off in front of everyone. It was great.”

Miss Minako laughed. “I think I like that girl’s style.”

“Me too!” 

They fell silent, and Yuuri didn’t know what to say. Did Miss Minako not want him hanging around anymore? He did spend extra time practicing at the studio, after all.

Before his thoughts could wander too far, Miss Minako interrupted his contemplation.

“Don’t look so sad, Yuuri. I will always be here for you if you need help with ballet, and you will always be welcome as my student, but I don’t think that you can reach your full artistic or athletic potential here. Perhaps if this town were still a booming one, or you were to move to a more metropolitan city…” Miss Minako shook her head once and the wistful expression disappeared, replaced by the earnest one again. “But that is not the case. And you are an athlete, Yuuri, and have the potential to be a strong one, at that.”

No one had ever called Yuuri strong before. It sounded really nice.

“But do me a favor and don’t tell anyone I was the one to turn you from a dancer to a skater, okay? It might hurt my reputation.”

“Yes, Miss Minako.”

Yuuri, it turns out, wasn’t _always_ good at keeping secrets. Fortunately, Minako did not seem to mind.

** ** **

Despite being busy with the many tasks associated with operating the inn and onsen, Yuuri’s father did take time to enjoy a soccer match whenever he was able. Although he hadn’t played regularly since before he married Yuuri’s mother, he often reminisced – for _ages_ \- about his past exploits on the soccer field to Yuuri while they kicked a beaten old soccer ball around outside on days with nice weather. His father had, of course, insisted upon teaching Yuuri the basics of the game basically as soon as he was steady enough to reliably toddle around after the ball.

On quiet nights, he enjoyed settling in front of the television with a drink in hand to watch a match and commentate on the game, the players, and skill of the referees. Yuuri tended to steer clear of him during championship matches (his father got a bit… enthusiastic… during the major games), but during the regular ones he would sometimes curl up next to his dad and just enjoy his company. 

When he was very little, it wasn’t unusual to fall asleep in front of the television and wake up in his bed the next morning with no memory of his dad carrying him there. As he grew older, though, Yuuri took a greater interest in his father’s commentary and they would debate points of the game during pauses in the action. 

From time to time his dad would even offer Yuuri sips of his drink after a quick glance back towards the door to make sure his mom wasn’t around to disapprove. 

** ** **

When Yuuri switched from taking casual ice skating classes to regular lessons combined with training and conditioning, his dedication was clear. He progressed through the classes with kids his own age and was eventually promoted to joining classes with some of the older, similarly dedicated kids. 

He loved being in the training classes with Yuuko. She had more experience and could do a _lot_ more tricks than he could, but she was always nice to him. She was a good teacher, too, giving him advice while he learned new skills or worked on improving his current ones, and applauded him each time he improved. He always felt good when he skated for Yuuko.

Being put into the next group also meant that now he shared the ice more often with Takeshi, the mean kid who had picked on Yuuri when he was little. Takeshi didn’t bother Yuuri anymore, though. In fact, he barely ever even spoke to Yuuri, only looked at him while he skated with Yuuko sometimes and then turned red and glanced away when he realized that Yuuri had seen him. 

Takeshi talked to Yuuko sometimes, and Yuuko said that he really wasn’t so bad, but Yuuri wasn’t so sure about that. Everyone seemed to like Yuuko and she seemed to make friends easily. That was one thing that Yuuko couldn’t seem to teach him, and one he didn’t know how to practice.

Usually when their teacher had them work in groups or pairs, Yuuko immediately claimed Yuuri as her partner, which was a relief because Yuuri was sure that otherwise he’d be left alone without anyone to skate with since the other kids were all bigger than him.

Sometimes the teacher picked out the groups, though, and today she put Yuuri and Takeshi together to work on pairs stretching and off-ice conditioning skills. 

At first, Yuuri could barely hear the teacher’s instructions over the pounding in his head as he warily watched Takeshi walk over. When Takeshi just stood near him waiting for the teacher to finish and didn’t say anything at all, Yuuri felt like he could breath again and finally heard what the teacher was saying.

Throughout that part of class, they didn’t say anything more complicated than “Okay?” and “That good?” as they went through their exercises, but Takeshi never pushed or pulled harder than Yuuri was ready for and made sure that neither was breaking the safety rules, some of which Yuuri had missed while he was busy being nervous and shaky.

After wards, when they put on their skates and switched to on-ice drills, Takeshi stuck around Yuuko and Yuuri, and even accepted Yuuri’s suggestions for how to improve a move without his usual wobbling.

When class was over, much to Yuuri’s surprise, Takeshi turned and thanked him for his help before beginning to skate away.

“You’re welcome. If you want…” Yuuri’s voice trailed off as he lost confidence. Maybe Takeshi wouldn’t want to hang out with him and only did it because the teacher made them.

Takeshi stopped skating and turned around to look at Yuuri and Yuuko but didn’t say anything.

“You could skate with us more. If you, you know, if you want.” Yuuri gestured to himself and Yuuko. “It’s fun to practice with other people sometimes.”

Takeshi looked at him and Yuuko and started to smile. “Okay. Yeah. Maybe next class?”

“Okay.”

After Takeshi left the ice, Yuuri turned to Yuuko. “You’re right! I guess he’s not so bad, huh?”

Yuuko laughed. “Nope. He’s really kind of cool. His bark is definitely worse than his bite, even if he doesn’t want anyone to know it.”

Yuuri laughed. “Well, it’s good that I can keep a secret then.” 

 

** ** **

With seven years of separation between them, it didn’t often feel like Mari and Yuuri had much in common outside of dancing, but he still had a certain amount of sibling worship for her. When she graduated up to high school and left him behind in primary school, Yuuri felt a certain sense of loss, even though their paths had rarely crossed.

He didn’t envy Mari the workload that seemed to grow ever larger as school progressed, nor the ever-more-frequent arguments she would have with their parents; the most tumultuous of recent times occurred when Mari insisted that she _had_ to get her ears pierced despite it being a direction violation of school rules.

She didn’t get her way and Yuuri could still feel the thunderclouds of her mood hanging over the family dinner table.

The things that Mari carefully hid from their parents, however, she didn’t always shield from Yuuri. He knew, for example, that she had a pocket in her backpack filled with colored lip-glosses and fancy hair decorations – both also forbidden at school – that she would apply after school released when she was going to see her friends or hole up in her room to study. He knew when she struggled with trying to find a direction that she wanted to go with her studies in the future, even though he didn’t understand why she had to know _now_ when she was still basically a kid like him.

One secret he is still not sure he should have kept was one he discovered when he was ten. Mari met him at school to take him to the Ice Castle and as they walked she pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She smoked two on their silent walk to the rink, though hid the pack away again before entering the building and sitting in the stands with her books while Yuuri practiced.

** ** **

On nice days - when he wasn’t spending time at the ice rink until dark, that is - Yuuri would sometimes study outside. It allowed him to escape from some of the noise and bustle of the inn and also play with Vicchan, occasionally kicking or tossing a ball for the excitable dog to chase after. 

With his increasingly more challenging schoolwork, skating training schedule, and responsibilities at the inn and onsen, Yuuri had no choice but to become skilled at multi-tasking.

“Vicchan! What have you done with all your toys?” Yuuri’s mildly exasperated tone of voice had no affect on Vicchan, who was alternating pacing figure eights around Yuuri’s legs with prancing around the garden. 

After a couple of minutes of fruitless searching, a short bark from across the garden caught Yuuri’s attention and he looked up to see Vicchan staring at him and then backing away several steps, stopping when Yuuri didn’t move and offering another bark.

“What is it, Vicchan?” 

Vicchan looked at Yuuri with about as imploring an expression as a dog could have for several moments before Yuuri got the hint that he was supposed to follow Vicchan as he trotted around the side of the building and towards a cluster of flowering bushes. “Vicchan?”

Vicchan yipped softly and pressed his body against Yuuri’s legs until Yuuri reached down to scratch his ears and neck. With a final, soft, _whuff_ from low in his throat, Vicchan licked Yuuri’s hand and then scrambled under the low-hanging branches of the bush, scrabbling around for several moments before emerging again with a ball in his mouth and nosing another one out ahead of him.

With a laugh, Yuuri pushed aside the branches and found a hoard of canine treasures: balls, sticks, two small stuffed animals, and someone’s lost – or stolen! – scarf. “Oh, Vicchan, you have been busy, haven’t you?”

Vicchan dropped the ball from his mouth at Yuuri’s feet and dove back under the bush, grabbing up another one and turning around to peer out at a laughing Yuuri.

“Well, buddy, I guess I know where to look when we are out of toys to play with. Thank you for trusting me with your hiding place.”

** ** **


	3. Adolescence, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains references to alcohol consumption & alcoholism, teenage pregnancy, premature birth, and the NICU.

_“Every relationship between two individuals or two groups will be characterized by the ratio of secrecy that is involved in it.”_ -Georg Simmel

**

Yuuri spent a fair portion of his teen years just… bewildered. It took all his energy just to try to figure _himself_ out and he didn’t have a whole lot of mental or physical energy left over for peering into the hearts and minds of everyone around him. And yet people _kept confiding in him!_

There had been some references to pheromones in his science books at some point. Maybe he exuded truth serum from his pores? 

Yuuri had no idea what was going on or what he could do about it, so instead he just tried to… endure.

** ** **

Yuuri’s not sure what made him follow Naoki into the bathroom. 

They aren’t friends. Yuuri doesn’t have many of those, really. But Naoki’s never been mean or a bully, either, so when Yuuri caught a glimpse of the other boy’s scrunched up face and saw him wipe his sleeve over his eyes just before leaving their classroom, Yuuri allowed concern to overcome apprehension and followed him.

As Yuuri tentatively pushed open the door to the lavatory he heard the telltale sniffles coming from the stall at the very end of the row.

“Naoki? Are you… okay?” That was stupid. Gah! Why was he so stupid? Of _course_ he wasn’t okay if he was crying in a bathroom, Yuuri, use your brain.

The sniffling stopped and Yuuri waited through a long, tense silence before the only closed door opened, revealing a splotchy-faced Naoki standing there. 

“Do you need-“ Yuuri trailed off. This was a terrible idea. He had no idea what to do here. 

“I almost cheated.” 

The words were soft but filled with what Yuuri could only describe as loathing. He stood there staring dumbly at Naoki, unable to think of what to say.

Naoki walked over to the line of sinks along the wall and propped himself up with his hands on the sink and his head hanging low. He spoke directly onto the bowl of the sink rather than to Yuuri. “I can’t keep up. And I stayed up all night studying but I still didn’t feel like I knew anything. Math is my worst subject, but it’s my parents’ best, and they have such high expectations…”

Yuuri still couldn’t speak, even after Naoki trailed off to take a deep shuddering breath. 

“And so when we took our exam, I could see over at your test book, and at Ai’s. I knew I could see some of your answers if I tried. And I wanted to. I really, really, wanted to because I don’t want to take another poor grade home. I hate to fail and I hate seeing my failure on my parent’s faces-“ Naoki broke off with a sob and turned towards the corner of the bathroom away from Yuuri, scrubbing his eyes with his sleeves. “I didn’t, though. I didn’t change my answers and I didn’t try to see more. But I wanted to.”

“That took strength.” Yuuri’s voice wavered for a moment, but he pushed on. “To face that temptation and to deny it. That is strength. And I know you probably think it was weak, maybe, to consider it. But you didn’t cheat, so you aren’t weak. You are the opposite. Because you got through it and stayed strong and did what you could. So that was honorable.” Yuuri ran out of words and stopped speaking abruptly.

Naoki let out a sound that was half laugh and half sigh. “Maybe. But now I’m an honorable failure who cries in bathrooms. That’s all everyone will be able to see. Not the rest of it.”

Yuuri didn’t know what to tell Naoki about the exam. Or about math or parents or guilt. But he did know what to do about putting yourself back together after crying. He took a strip of towels and soaked them in cold water before walking over to Naoki and handing them over his shoulder. “Put this on your eyes. It’ll help keep the swelling down.”

After a minute or two of exchanging cold paper towels, Naoki dried off his face and heaved his bag over his shoulder, heading towards the door.

“Thank you, Yuuri.” Naoki paused with his hand on the door handle, face downward as though studying the tiled floor. “Can you- Um. Please don’t…”

When he didn’t seem able to continue, Yuuri jumped in. “I won’t say anything. It’s nobody else’s business.”

Naoki didn’t look back at Yuuri and Yuuri could see him nod stiffly and take a deep, shaky breath before opening the door. Over the sound of the stragglers passing in the hallway, Yuuri could just make out the soft “Thanks” repeated back to him.

** ** ** 

“Have you ever been in love?”

Yuuri gasped in the middle of taking a sip of water and wound up sputtering and choking for several seconds while a laughing and clearly unrepentant Yuuko patted his back ineffectually.

“Wow, Yuuri. That was quite the reaction. Anything you’d like to tell me?”

“WHAT? No! No, no- you just caught me off guard and-“

“Relax, Yuuri,” Yuuko reassured, serious this time. “I’m kidding. About the second question. Not about the original one.”

“I, umm. I’m not sure that I’m the person to be talking to-“

“Yuuuuuu-ri! I’m not asking for your deepest darkest thoughts and secrets. I’m just-“ Yuuko sighed. “I just want to talk to someone about it and I trust you more than just about anyone else, but I’m not sure-“

Yuuri waited, but Yuuko didn’t continue. “You’re not sure that I can really relate?”

“Ummm, yeah.” Yuuko looked like she was regretting starting this entire conversation in the first place and began skating backwards a few feet. “Sorry, Yuuri.”

Yuuri leaned back against the barrier, resting his elbows on the ledge. “Even if I’ve never been in love before, not the real-life kind of love, I can still listen.”

Yuuko smiled at Yuuri, reversing direction and skating over to him, also settling against the wall. 

Yuuri waited, without prompting her.

After several long moments, Yuuko took a deep breath and blurted, “So, Takeshi told me he loves me. Yesterday, after practice.”

Yuuri’s eyebrows rose and he turned towards her, but Yuuko wasn’t looking at him, instead her eyes were scanning over the sparsely populated rink and stands. “And…”

“And I said it back to him. And then, umm, ran away.”

“You… ran… away? Right at that moment?”

Yuuko wailed. “I panicked! And then he didn’t say anything to me at all in school today and I saw him in the halls twice.”

“Well, he may have been a little confused by the mixed messages. Maybe he’s giving you space.”

Yuuko crossed her arms over her chest and growled lowly for a moment. “Why would you tell someone you love them and then give them _space?_ ”

Yuuri tilted his head at Yuuko, as though that would help this conversation make more sense. “Why would you tell someone you love them and then _run away immediately afterwards?_ ”

Yuuko turned her glare from the stands to settle on Yuuri. “While I acknowledge your point, I also resent your rationality.”

“Duly noted, won’t happen again.” 

Yuuri didn’t even resist when Yuuko reached out and shoved him, with only a hair more force than playfulness would dictate, allowing himself to slide backwards a few feet along the wall as he laughed.

Yuuko covered her face with her hands. “So what do I do now?”

Seeing a large figure step out onto the ice behind Yuuko, Yuuri smiled and beckoned him over. Takeshi froze, wide-eyed, for several moments before being jostled out of his daze by a knot of primary school skaters rushing to leave the rink.

“Well, you can start by talking to him.”

Yuuko’s head shot up and she threw her hands up in the air dramatically. “I don’t know what to say! Help me come up with something, please!”

“Just say what you told me. You love him. You freaked out. You’re worried. He’ll get it because he’s probably feeling most of that himself.” Yuuri glanced over Yuuko’s shoulder. “In fact, I’m willing to bet on it.

“I- I guess. Maybe I should practice saying it first. Should I write it down? Or maybe try-“

“Well, whatever you want to do, do it quickly, because he’s headed over here right now.”

Yuuko’s eyes bugged out and she whipped around to look at Takeshi skating up behind her then continued her spin until she was facing Yuuri again. _How long has he been here? Why didn’t you_ tell _me?”_

Yuuri didn’t have time to answer before Takeshi slid to a stop a few feet away from them. His hair stood up in all directions and his jaw was tense.

“Yu-chan? Can I, umm, _we_ talk?”

“I, well, I mean. Yes. Yes, we should.” She turned to Yuuri, fury forgotten for the moment. “I’ll see you later, Yuuri.”

“Bye Yuuko, Takeshi.”

Takeshi raised a hand in goodbye, turning and reaching that hand out towards Yuuko as he began to skate towards the far and currently empty end of the rink. After a moment, Yuuko reached her hand out as well and took it.

Watching them for a few moments more, Yuuri noticed how Takeshi shortened his strokes to match Yuuko’s and how Yuuko’s fingers curled around Takeshi’s, interlacing them together and holding on tight.

** ** **

Mari settled at the table next to Yuuri, setting a mug of tea slightly closer to Yuuri’s schoolwork than he was comfortable with and holding her own close to her body. She sat silently, watching him as he finished a few more lines in his book before reaching out and taking the mug, _carefully_ , and bringing it to his lips.

“I don’t usually see you up this late working on your studies. Falling behind?” Mari’s eyebrows were slightly raised and there was just a hint of surprise in her tone.

“Trying to get ahead, actually,” Yuuri replied with a sigh. “If I can finish this tonight then I can focus more on training for the regional competition next week. Fewer distractions might help me focus better on my routine.” He drained half the tea and put the cup in the middle of the table.

“Huh,” was Mari’s thoughtful response. 

It was several minutes and several more lines in his book before Yuuri heard her shift and place her emptied mug on the table near his. “Can’t say that I miss that.”

“What?” Yuuri asked, distractedly.

“The balancing acts, trying to fit everything in. Can’t say that I ever tried to get ahead, either.” She snorted softly. “Or did more than I really had to do to avoid hearing about it from my teachers or dad.”

Yuuri smiled and put his pencil down. “Yes, that’s a Katsuki for you. Flying under the radar is a specialty of ours.”

Mari cracked up at that, picking up a discarded piece of notebook paper, crumping it up, and throwing to bounce off of Yuuri’s head. “Yeah, rising junior figure skater brother of mine, tell me all about flying under the radar, why don’t you?”

“Very funny. No one outside of Hasetsu knows who I am, Mari.”

“Mari looked at him askance and Yuuri tried to ignore her expression.

“Keep telling yourself that, little brother, if that’s what you need to keep from needing to breath into a paper bag.”

“Hey!” Yuuri made a face at her. Mari remained silent long enough that Yuuri was on the verge of returning to his studies when she put her elbow on the table and proper her chin up on it, gazing off at the wall and avoiding eye contact with him.

“I always figured that I’d stay here and run the onsen with Mom and Dad. I thought about other things to do. I had to in the meetings at school. But nothing ever seemed like it was right for me other than here.” She sighed, long and low. “I don’t regret it now, but…”

Yuuri waited a moment to see if she would continue on her own. “But?”

Mari looked at him again. “I’m worried that someday I might. Regret not moving away, even for a little while. Regret not doing more. Seeing more. I mean, you’re my baby brother and you’ve already been to more countries through your skating than I’ve been to for any reason. What if, someday, I wake up and feel like I’ve missed out on my chance.”

Yuuri considered her words for several seconds. “Do you want to? Go, I mean. Right now? Go somewhere and have an adventure so that you can see if it’s something you need to do?”

“Not really. Like I said, I’m okay with being here right now. It feels right. And mom and dad rely on me.” Mari paused for a telling moment before continuing softly, “I like that.”

Yuuri tried not to think about how that made him the child that _wasn’t_ present. At least not the way Mari was. He knew she didn’t mean it that way. Probably. He mentally directed himself off that path of thought. “Well, consider yourself invited along wherever I go, Big Sister. Cramped hotel rooms in exotic cities where you can explore all the crowded skating rinks your heart could desire.”

Mari snorted and grinned. “Careful, I might actually take you up on that.”

Yuuri smiled back at her. “Good. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

** ** **

“Shit.”

Yuuri caught Takeshi’s eye in the mirror where the other man stood worrying at his shirt collar and the lopsided bowtie around his neck.

“You okay?” 

“Yes.” Takeshi paused for a moment, then growled out a rough, wordless sound. ”No.”

“Nervous?”

“No.”

Yuuri waited until Takeshi met his eyes, then raised his eyebrows.

“…Yes.”

“Want help with your tie?”

“Yes.”

Yuuri waited a beat. “Not gonna change your mind this time?”

“Shut up, jerk.” But Takeshi was laughing now, and Yuuri could feel the tension in the room subside.

Yuuri stood and stepped in front of Takeshi, loosening the sad excuse for a bowtie that lay half-unraveled already and turned up the collar in the back. “Chin up.”

Takeshi raised his chin while Yuuri finished popping his collar and then ran his hands down Takeshi’s shoulders, smoothing out the fabric before arranging the bowtie – fortunately without _too_ many wrinkles in it – around the collar.

“Once upon a time I thought this would be you in this position.” Takeshi kept his head angled, staring at the ceiling and avoiding Yuuri’s eyes.

Yuuri’s hands froze for a long moment, then he took a deep, even breath and resumed arranging the bowtie. “What do you mean?”

The corners of Takeshi’s mouth tightened and his nostrils flared a bit. This close, Yuuri could see these minute expressions easily, but really, having been friends with Takeshi for this long, he didn’t really need the clues. “I’m not playing coy, Takeshi. I want to eliminate any chance for misunderstanding.”

When that didn’t elicit an immediate response, Yuuri dropped the ends of the bowtie and flicked Takeshi in the middle of his forehead, scowling at the other man’s startled curse. “Talk.”

Unexpectedly, Takeshi laughed, even as he turned to the mirror to make sure he didn’t have a bright red mark on his face. “Sorry, Yuuri. “ He turned back to face Yuuri, meeting his eyes levelly and without accusation “I’m just so nervous and I’m remembering how I used to worry all the time that Yuuko would wind up realizing she didn’t want anything to do with me and run off with you.” Takeshi smirked. “Or with your precious Victor.”

“Takeshi, we were never- wait, _what?_ ” Yuuri looked gob smacked. How did _Victor_ wind up in this conversation?”

“Well, to be fair he winds up in a _lot_ of conversations with you.” Takeshi smirked down at Yuuri’s scowling face.

“Takeshi…” Yuuri raised his hand, poised to flick again if provoked.

“Okay, okay. Well, you know as well as I do how many leaps an anxious brain can make, whether rational or not. And come on, I know you’re both half in love with him-” At this, Yuuri winced, but Takeshi barreled on, apparently without noticing. “And the Madonna of Ice Castle Hasetsu with the Living Legend of Skating? Seemed a reasonable fear at the time.”

“No, Takeshi.” Yuuri couldn’t restrain his eye roll. “No, it was not.”

Distracted, Yuuri missed Takeshi’s arm movement and cried out in aggravation when Takeshi retaliated by grabbing at his head and ruffling his – for once – neatly combed hair. “Stop it, you jerk!”

“Anyways, I haven’t thought that in a long time. About you, at least. I still think Victor could probably skate into Hasetsu and steal _both_ of you away.”

“Ha ha.” Yuuri’s voice made it clear how _not_ funny he found Takeshi’s suspicion. He did return to fixing Takeshi’s tie, though he _might_ have tugged a little more forcefully than necessary when rearranging the cloth before formed the first half of the bow. “You know that she’s as crazy about you as you are about her. And that the two of us have never been anything more than very good friends.”

“I know. I do. I don’t know why that came to mind now.” Takeshi sounded thoughtful. “I haven’t actually told anyone about that before. Not even Yuuko.”

“Really? You two tell each other everything.” Surprised, Yuuri glanced up from wrapped the second tail to meet Takeshi’s eyes briefly.

“Nearly. But I think if I mentioned that to her she’d do a lot more than flick me in the head.”

Yuuri snorted. “You’re not wrong.” 

With a last tug to straighten out the loops and ends of the bow, Yuuri stepped back to survey Takeshi’s appearance. “There, you’re done.”

Takeshi turned back to the mirror and nodded in approval.

“You’re good at this.”

“I’ve got a few secrets hidden away, still.”

Takeshi laughed and tugged at the sleeves of his suit. “And collecting more all the time.”

They both turned at the knock on the door and saw Takeshi’s father waving them out with a smile. Takeshi’s eyes went wide and he swallowed audibly, then began to reach for his bowtie before being stopped by Yuuri.

“Stop fussing. Don’t ruin my hard work.” Yuuri directed Takeshi towards the door with an arm around his broad shoulders. “And I can’t help it if I apparently exude a very trustworthy aura.”

Handing Takeshi off to his father’s care with one last pat on the back, Yuuri smiled. “Now go get married. I’ll be rooting for you not to fall over.”

“I’m not the one walking down an aisle in front of our whole families!”

“No, but Yuuko is good with pressure. You are definitely more likely to faint than she is.”

It was a good thing Yuuri was already out of arm’s reach.

** ** **

Yuuri heard a soft scuffle from the studio entranceway but didn’t stop his slow progression through the movements of his routine. Minako had been several glasses into her ongoing grudge match drinking contest with Mr. Sato when Yuuri had slipped out of the onsen to head to the studio for some peace, quiet, and practice. She had likely seen the lights on as she made her way back home and stopped in to check on him.

“Yuuuuuuuu-ri! Practicing already? You’ve just gotten home from your last competition! Haven’t you earned a rest after a grand performance? It is important to allow your body to recover after travelling, too. It is your temple, remember!”

Yuuri laughed softly, surprising himself.

Minako heard him, too, and joined him. “I know what you’re thinking! My body is also a temple! And one to which I make many generous offerings of beer, wine, and sake!” She paused for a moment, obviously considering her advice, such as it was. “But no, you should offer yours water, since you are probably dehydrated from the plane.” She walked over to a cabinet in the hallway, her gait surprisingly steady, and grabbed two bottles of water, setting one down near where Yuuri had stopped to stretch and then cracking open the cap of her own, tipping it into her mouth and draining half the bottle in one go. 

“Thank you, Minako. The water is helpful, yes. But as for the rest?” Yuuri sighed. “Well, I have a lot of work still to do. My performance was far from grand and I made several mistakes.” Yuuri shuddered, feeling the bruising cold of the ice against his hands and hip as though he’d just staggered off it seconds ago instead of two days prior at the competition during his free skate.

Minako collapsed onto the ground next to him, somehow still graceful, and tipped the rest of the water into her mouth before responding. “Your performance was beautiful. You fell, yes, but you were captivating in the story you told and the emotions you shared with the audience.”

“I don’t think anyone finds watching someone flop around on the ice like a fish on a line captivating, Minako.” The plastic of the water bottle crackled and popped in Yuuri’s hand before he set it down on the ground so that it wouldn’t betray his feelings any further.

“Is that what you remember about your competition, Yuuri? Because, I watched the stream of it and I don’t remember that.” Minako’s voice was suddenly so, so serious and without a hint of slurred speech. Yuuri had to check to make sure the flush was still high on her cheeks and he hadn’t imagined her drunkenness. 

“I remember the look on your face just as the music began and your sharp footwork and your effortless transition between spins,” Minako continued. “And I remember the extension of your leg, several degrees higher than even at our last practice session, and the delicate position of your hands as you reached your final pose. Those are what stand out to me.”

“I- I guess,” Yuuri’s voice was so soft he was afraid Minako wouldn’t be able to hear him over the sound of his heartbeat,, thundering in his ears.

“Do you still like skating, Yuuri?”

Yuuri’s mouth dropped open at Minako’s question, bobbing several times before he slammed it shut again. The question was one simply stated. Yuuri’s response to it, however? That wasn’t the least bit simple.

When Yuuri failed to answer in whatever time frame Minako deemed acceptable, she turned her head and glared at him. “What is it that you like about skating, Yuuri. Do you still like anything about it?”

“I… yes. Yes!” Somehow this was easier to answer than her first question. “I like that first glide out onto the ice. And the heavy moment, that anticipation as I wait for the music to begin. And the air against my face as I build speed. I like that it’s so much easier to speak with my body and my performance than with words. I like- no, I _love_ those things.”

“Good. Because someday you will miss that, and if you’d already lost your appreciation for what you are able to do now, I wouldn’t know what to say to you.” Minako sighed. “Everything you’ve just said, Yuuri? Don’t lose that? Don’t lose sight of those things, don’t stop thinking about them and appreciating them and loving them. Don’t let your focus on the imperfect parts of your performance steal away your love for the whole of your being.”

Yuuri found that he couldn’t answer. But he could, he _would_ , consider her words. 

Minako continued. “Because someday you won’t be skating anymore. Or not in the same way. And you will miss it. The feeling of performing, of having people holding their breath as they watch what you are capable of, as you spin a story out in front of them and take their soul on a journey of a few minutes that will last in their minds for so much longer. Don’t let that be lost in the tide of self-recriminations and doubt.”

Several moments passed, but Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to break the brittle silence that hung between them. In the end, Minako was the one to finally say the words that Yuuri had suspected but could never outright ask.

“I miss performing, Yuuri. I miss being onstage with all eyes on me, and holding them captive for as long as I danced. I even miss the terrible parts, and the scary parts, and the struggles. Because all of it is gone now. Or, not gone, but different. Here in Hasetsu, here teaching. I miss it like a miss a piece of myself, and I want you to have a memory of all the good parts for when you miss skating, too, and not just the bad parts that trouble you now.”

Again, Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to answer, but he did nod, and he suspected that Minako understood.

** ** **

Takeshi slumped on a bench with his head between his knees breathing deeply, Yuuko patting his neck distractedly.

Yuuri’s eyes darted left and right, considering his potential escape routes. Then he sighed, took a deep breath, and forced himself to approach his friends slowly. “Yuuko? Takeshi? Are you… okay?”

“He’d been fine at the doctor. After the initial shock, at least. Better than me, even. But then we got here and I just didn’t know what to say or do. And he just wobbled a lot and sat down. And now he’s been like this for the last five minutes.”

Yuuri wanted to run away, skate guards or no. But he also wanted to help his friends. He wanted to not have to decide between being the good friend he wanted to be and the chicken he longed to be.

“Are you… okay?” Yuuri didn’t know what to say to a pregnant best friend. Yuuko was the first of his peers to _be_ pregnant, after all. And hadn’t _that_ been a minor scandal for the neighborhood to chew on when the news got out.

What if something was wrong? What if Yuuko was sick? Or the baby? The town hadn’t really even fully settled into the knowledge that Yuuko was pregnant yet. If something was wrong and she had to go through the whispering and endure all the _looks_ and assumptions again… Yuuri’s heartbeat sped up and he felt nausea churn in his stomach in sympathy with the mere thought.

“I’m fine. Sort of? I think…” Yuuko’s voice trailed off and she just stared at Yuuri.

Yuuri had no idea what to do with that. With _them_. They weren’t usually the ones turning to him for support, these days. They’d… figured life out, somehow. 

Yuuri didn’t understand it, because all he’d figured out was that he wanted to skate and that his body and brain may or may not be one board with that goal, depending on the day. And now Yuuko and Takeshi were the ones supporting him as he debated what he was supposed to do now that he’d essentially outgrown Hasetsu and yet didn’t feel like he was ready to leave.

Things didn’t seem to faze them these days. Not their gossiping neighbors or the whispered voices disapproving of their early marriage. Not the landlady at the first apartment they’d looked at who had asked to see their marriage certificate before she’d even discuss the details of the rent. Not the reality of deciding to stay in their sleepy town instead of heading off to university, and planning their life around the vagaries of a seaside tourist town in decline. They just… did it. Together.

But now they were sitting there in the bleachers at the ice rink, not saying anything, and Yuuko was just looking at him, at Yuuri, like he had a clue. Which he most assuredly did not.

At least they were sitting together, he mused. That had to be a reassuring sign, right? And there- Yuuko’s hand had stopped patting at Takeshi’s neck, but lay resting against it with her fingers slightly buried in his hair and scratching lightly. And while Takeshi had one hand both covering and propping up his face, the other was resting on Yuuko’s knee.

Okay. So _they_ were fine. Was it the baby? Yuuko said, doctor, and she had recently mentioned that she had an appointment coming up, so that must be it.

“Yuuko?”

“I had a scan today. My first one.”

“Oh.” Dread curled in Yuuri’s stomach. He didn’t want to ask. He did not want to hear that something was, that Yuuko and Takeshi had to-

“It’s. I mean. They’re…” Yuuko sighed and raised her hands in a shrug as if to say _I don’t even know._ “They’re a _they!_ ”

Thoroughly distracted and confused, now, Yuuri didn’t even know how to parse that. “What?”

“Trrphless,” Takeshi groaned.

That did not enlighten Yuuri one bit. “Umm-“

“Triplets, Yuuri. There were three of them on the scan. We’re not telling anyone yet. Except you and my mother, of course, but,” Yuuko’s voice trailed off as she pulled at Takeshi’s hair and he finally allowed himself to be drawn away from his hunched position and into a slump against Yuuko’s body, his face turned up towards hers. She smiled softly down at him, scratching his scalp again. “We’re having triplets.”

While one part of his brain had begun to make a high-pitched screeching sound of terrified confusion, the tiny portion of the leftover brain matter that was stubbornly maintaining his outwardly calm demeanor noted that the last part of Yuuko’s announcement wasn’t really intended for his ears.

And, yes – Takeshi’s arm came up to wrap around Yuuko’s waist and he turned his head to rest his ear against her stomach with a tiny smile of his own forming.

Yuuko’s stomach. Oh my god. She was so tiny. How on earth could _three_ babies ever possible fit in there. She wasn’t going to be able to move.

And where would they even _put_ three babies? They tripped over each other in their tiny apartment as it was. 

And- oh god. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. What if they asked him to _babysit???_

** ** **

Yuuri’s view of the ice and its sole occupant was blocked by his coach’s body, snapping him out of the spiral of thoughts and recriminations filling his mind as he watched Takumi build up speed for what would likely be another perfect triple axel. 

“Ah, Yuuri.” Coach sighed out as he moved to sit beside Yuuri on the bleachers, groaning softly as his knees protested the descent. Out on the ice, Takumi landed the axel with only the tiniest of wobbles, somehow still managing to still look confident and in charge of the ice as he did. 

“If Takumi were able to go to the next competition, there is no way I could beat him. He’s a natural.” Yuuri knew that Takumi’s off-ice responsibilities to his family were causing the other boy a great deal of stress as he strained to meet his obligations at home and at the rink. When he’d told Yuuri that he wouldn’t be joining him at the regional competition, he’d even confessed that he didn’t know how much longer he would be able to skate competitively.

Takumi hadn’t cried when he shared that secret, but his voice had sounded thick and he hadn’t met Yuuri’s surprised stare. Thinking back on witnessing his friend and rival’s grief, Yuuri felt a flash of shame that warred with his resentment of Takumi having such skill that would be wasted.

Coach huffed out a soft breath through his nose and Yuuri wasn’t able to tell if it was a laugh or a snort. “I’ll tell you a little secret about the world of athletics, Yuuri. It’s not all about being a natural. In fact, that is such a small part of success in a sport that it barely computes at this level of competition.”

Yuuri frowned, tightening his arms around his knees.

“I mean it. Hard work and dedication mean so much more and they always will. There are plenty of people who have the right build or height or a seemingly natural grace, but without the commitment to forge those into actual, trained skill? Those traits mean little.”

“Yeah, but having those things sure can help,” Yuuri grumbled into his legs.

Yuuri could practically hear the frown that must grace Coach Matsuo’s weathered face. “Being a natural may mean not falling immediately upon stepping on the ice or managing to look good even while messing up. Yuuri, please listen to me.” Coach waited until Yuuri lifted his head and nodded, however reluctantly.

“Yes, those traits they can help get you out on the ice, or keep one’s interest a little longer. But so can having the time to dedicate to training because an athlete has a supportive family who doesn’t pile on other responsibilities. So can having sponsors and personal connections that donate gear and travel expenses and private rink time. So can being a good enough student that training can be balanced with studies without either suffering.”

Yuuri considered this for several long moments before his shoulders slumped and he raised his eyes to meet his coach’s. Those… weren’t things Yuuri had consciously considered before, but he had to admit, however reluctantly, that those things all made a difference, too. They just weren’t as flashy as incredible leg muscles or pristine technique.

“Also,” Coach Matsuo continued, “please consider that how one defines being a ‘natural’ will not be the same for everyone. For a lot of people, all that being a natural means is that when they see an athlete they admire, they see how willingly that person takes to the hard work of perfecting their skills. For others, they see the beauty of their performance and how they draw an audience in to share the experience with them.”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Yuuri, you have improved greatly since you began skating seriously, have you not?”

Coach Matsuo accepted Yuuri’s nod. “And that speaks to your willingness to commit to the task of improving your skills. I know you are here every single day. Falling down and getting back up, trying again and again to make each movement the best that it can be. That shows your passion for skating. You have so much potential, Yuuri, if you maintain this dedication. You don’t have to pick up a new move immediately. It’s a rare thing for anyone to do. But you do work at it until you can make it yours, and you always have.”

Yuuri didn’t understand his coach’s last statement at all. He didn’t have many things in skating that he considered “his.” There were moves that were named after skaters that came before him or moves that were performed so incredibly, so flawlessly, that they were forever linked to a skater who considered that their signature. There were performances that were etched into the collective consciousness of the skating world that will forever be remembered and remarked upon and compared to. 

But none of those were Yuuri’s, and he couldn’t imagine ever having something in figure skating to consider his above all others’.

Apparently unwilling to allow Yuuri to wallow further, his coach held an arm out towards the rink in an unmistakable order. “And now I must you to pull yourself together and get back to training. You compete in two weeks and I want you in top form. There’s someone who will be attending the competition that I’d like to introduce you to and I want him to see the skill you have worked so hard for.”

Interest, and a tiny bit of alarm, piqued, Yuuri allowed himself to be distracted from his darkening mood. “Who?”

“An old acquaintance of mine. A protégé of sorts, once. Quite some time ago, in fact. His name is Celestino Cialdini and I think that you might do well to talk to him and see what he could offer you in regards to the next step in your career in figure skating.”

** ** **

“I don’t really know how to describe it, Yuuri,” Yuuko said, her eyes never leaving the tiny baby – the tiniest baby Yuuri had ever seen – in the plastic cot in front of them, one of three in the little nook of the neonatal intensive care nursery. 

The cots were called isolettes, Takeshi had told him, and they kept each baby warm and protected from excess light and noise that their bodies weren’t yet ready to handle. Yuuri thought the whole place was absolutely terrifying, but Yuuko and Takeshi were already comfortable enough with all the equipment and with their daughters to open the little porthole-like doors and reach in to rest a finger in a tiny palm or tuck a flailing little leg back into the nest of blankets.

Daughters. His best friends had _daughters_. Plural. 

Yuuri felt a little lightheaded, like he’d been practicing for far, far to long. Yuuko’s voice pulled him back to himself just enough to be able to take some deep breaths and hold on to the nearby counter with a white-knuckled hand until he felt steadier.

“I never thought I could have so many feelings all at once and not explode. I’m scared and overwhelmed about them coming two months early and I’m absolutely _terrified_ about what we’re going to do when it’s time to take them home. But I’m also so, so happy to meet them. And every time I wake up I just can’t wait to come in here and see them and touch them and watch them make faces in their sleep.” Yuuko was glowing; there really was no other word for it that Yuuri could identify. 

“The nurses are going to help us hold all three of them together today,” Takeshi said, both fear and excitement in his voice. He was most definitely not glowing, with circles under his eyes and his hair even more disheveled than normal, but he’d had a wide-eyed look of awe about him from the moment he’d met Yuuri at the hospital entrance to lead him to the NICU and introduce him to the babies. “So far we’ve only held them one at a time, so now we’ll start figuring out how to do it with all three.”

“It’s amazing, Yuuri. I don’t know how else to describe it.” Takeshi wrapped his arms around Yuuko and rested his head on top of hers as they both gazed down at the sleeping baby – Yuuri thought this one was Loop but he hadn’t figured out who was who yet – and Yuuri glanced away, unused to his friends being so openly affectionate, even in his presence.

“I guess it’s something that can’t really _be_ described. Just felt. You’re in the secret Parent Club now, you two. Congratulations.”


	4. Adolescence, Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains reference to alcohol consumption.

_If we knew each other’s secrets, what comforts we should find._ – John Churton Collins

**

Surely going off to university - in America no less - should have put an end to his role as confidant, right? Who could possibly think it a good idea to trust a wide-eyed, half-terrified, college freshman, after all?

** ** **

“You probably don’t want to drink that.”

Yuuri’s heart leaped into his throat and his hand spasmed around the red plastic cup he’d been raising to his mouth, causing the murky liquid inside to splash onto the cement patio. He turned quickly, spinning his body to hide the cup behind his back as he rotated. He was going to kill Bodhi if he got arrested. Or kicked out of university. Or kicked out of the country. His parents would be so disappointed. Celestino would drop him immediately. Everything was going to be ruined. Maybe he could plead ignorance of the details of the U.S. legal drinking age? Despite the student contract all freshman had been required to sign acknowledging their understanding of the university policy on, well, everything and anything that the movies typically claimed to be normal rites of teenage passage.

Instead of a frowning police officer or enraged professor, however, Yuuri found a tall stocky man standing nearby, grinning at him and raising his can of beer in a half wave.

Okay, so, not arrested then. Yet.

“Umm. I was invited…” Since it was unlikely this guy was a professor or other authority figure here to bust up the off campus party Yuuri’s roommate had convinced him to go to, Yuuri could only imagine that he’d been identified as a probable party crasher.

“We didn’t exactly send out invitations, man.” The guy grinned and upended his can over his mouth, pouring out the last of the beer into his mouth before throwing the can in the general direction of a large box that was already half filled with other emptied cans and bottles.

“So, umm, why…”

“Because you definitely don’t want to drink the piss in that bucket.” 

Yuuri’s eyes widened and he held the cup away from his body in horror. “It’s not actually-“

The guy looked alarmed at Yuuri’s reaction for a moment before looking him over for a moment and bursting into laughter. “No, no, man. Not literally.” He reassured between guffaws. “It’s just really, really bad Jungle Juice.”

He must have caught Yuuri’s perplexed expression and explained, “Jungle Juice is when a group of poor and/or cheap college students throw whatever booze they’ve got in their apartments into the biggest container they can find and mix it up with Gatorade or kool aid or whatever they can find to try to cover up the God-awful taste. And then they chug it and get buzzed off of a mixture of alcohol and bad decisions.”

“…Oh.”

“Yeah,” the guy said, apparently taking Yuuri’s response for disapproval of the whole process. “And that’s why I called it piss, since it usually doesn’t taste much better. Or so I would imagine,” he clarified, evidently wanted to assure Yuuri that he didn’t have actual experience in drinking urine to draw from. “Anyways, in addition to it being a truly terrible mixture of alcohols, the biggest container they could find this time was a big plastic tub the guy living in the second floor uses to keep his laundry in. And I can tell you from having to share a washer and dryer with him, he doesn’t actually wash his clothes all that often. So you probably don’t want to put anything that’s been in that tub into your body, even if alcohol is supposed to be a disinfectant.”

Yuuri was kind of overwhelmed. By the flurry of information, by the truly disgusting concept of Jungle Juice, by the decisions that he’d made in life that had ended with him being _here_ …

The Guy reached through the open window into the apartment and snagged another couple of cans from inside. He gestured for Yuuri to ditch his cup of poison and, once done, placed a can of beer into his hand. “Much safer choice. You’re the one who opens it, you know what’s in it, and no exposure to sweaty socks. Good advice in general when going to college parties.”

“Umm, that’s a relief. Thanks.”

“Anytime. Just remember to pass along this wisdom to the newbies when you have your own chance.” And with that, the guy ambled away towards a table set up with a punch of those suspicious cups that a group of partygoers were throwing white plastic balls into.

“Right.” Yuuri popped the tab to the beer and took a long swig. It still tasted like piss, or so he assumed, but at least it was free from laundry germs. 

** ** **

Yuuri stacked his book and notebooks together and shoved them into his backpack more loudly than was strictly necessary. He didn’t even bother to control the scowl that crossed his face.

“Yeah, Professor Martin sucks. He’s, like, a year away from retirement and gives zero fucks anymore.” 

Yuuri looked up, surprised, to find a tall blonde girl standing nearby and smiling at him as she shouldered her own bag. “Oh?”

“Yeah. My sister goes here, too, and she’s a senior. History major, so she knows all the professors in this department and told me to try to avoid Martin. Of course this was the only open lecture I could fit into my schedule and still have Fridays off, so I have to just suck it up.”

“Ah. That’s too bad. But having a long weekend makes up for this torture, I guess.” Yuuri had spread his classes out when he could, trying to cluster them all for the mornings and evenings to give him as much rink time as possible in the middle of the day.

“Yeah. I work weekends because the pay is better and that way I don’t have to try and pick up shifts during the week. I’m a nursing student so the schedule’s pretty packed. I’m Selena, by the way.”

“I’m Yuuri. It must be nice to have inside information on which professors to stay away from.”

“Definitely, but you can, too, you know. And not just history, but any class. There’s a website.”

“What?”

“Here.” Selena reached over and tore a piece of scrap paper from Yuuri’s note book, thankfully a blank piece. She scribbled down something and handed it back to him. “My sister told me about it and a lot of the professors here are on there. Students take courses and then go on the website to talk about what the course and teachers are like and what style of teaching they use, how fairly they grade, that kind of thing. It can really help you to at least try and avoid the worst ones.”

“Oh, thanks.” Yuuri always had to be cautious that the classes he took would meet criteria to successfully transfer when he returned to Japan, but it couldn’t hurt to take the website into consideration.

“You’re welcome. My roommate is a music student and she hated having to take all the general education requirements before I told her about the site. She always seemed to pick the most overworked and scary professors on the whole campus. I’m actually meeting her for an early lunch before my next class, want to join us?”

Yuuri folded the note and put it into his pocket, turning to walk up the lecture hall stairs with Selena. “Umm, sure. That would be nice, thank you.”

“Any time. Us poor overworked students have to stick together, right? Oh, and tell any of your friends about the site, the more people on it the more accurate the information. But they don’t exactly advertise it to the professors so no one gets cranky and tries to block us from using it.”

“Got it. I’ll do that.”

** ** **

Yuuri let out a soft curse as his character died - _again!_ \- in a blaze of not-quite-glory. “What is _wrong_ with you people? Haven’t you learned after the last twenty raids that you need to actually _protect your healer?_

He muttered long strings of not-terribly-encouraging curses as his character respawned and began the trek back to the battle site. This is why he splurged on the headset microphone with the easy-access mute toggle so that he could release his frustrations _without_ getting himself kicked out of the guild for abusing his teammates.

Yuuri heard a soft chuckle behind him and whipped around to find Phichit sprawled out on the couch and holding up his phone, which was pointed at Yuuri. 

“Phichit! When did you get back? Wait, are you recording me?”

“Hi Yuuri. I got home a few minutes ago – you were too busy yelling at your game to hear me come in, I guess. And yes, I most definitely am recording you. Watching you play video games is the most hilariously out-of-character experience of my life.” Phichit pressed the screen of his phone and dropped it onto the couch beside him as he raised his hands in front of him as though reading from a newspaper. “Mild-mannered Japanese figure skater has the filthiest bilingual trash-talk in all of Detroit!”

Yuuri could feel his face heat to boiling. “Ha ha. You can never put that video online. Someone will inevitably show it to my parents and I will never stop hearing about it. And I’ll probably be ostracized by my entire country.”

“I don’t know. This is a powerful secret to have, Yuuri. It would take some pretty good negotiating to make this video disappear.”

Yuuri glared at Phichit and pressed his lips together. Phichit was a good guy and Yuuri knew he wouldn’t actually embarrass him like that. But he would definitely tease him every time the subject came up.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I will delete this video right in front of you and show you it isn’t saved in the cloud. I won’t mention it ever again, even.”

“Okay… What’s the catch?” Yuuri asked, eyes narrowing at Phichit’s too-innocent expression.

“And in return, you promise to teach me Japanese curse words.”

Yuuri could feel himself burn hot again. “Phichit!”

“And not just the words that translate well into English. I want the ones that really only work in Japanese, also. And I want to know context, too!”

“Phichit! You’re not serious!”

“Oh, I am very serious, Yuuri. I’ll let _you_ in on a little secret. When I first moved here, the English swears are the _first_ new words I learned.” Phichit laughed at Yuuri’s expression. “They just don’t teach them in English classes back home, and context means a lot if you want to curse fluently. Look, I made a list and everything!”

Phichit tapped away at his phone for a few seconds before holding it in front of Yuuri’s face. 

“In fact,” Phichit continued, “you’re the only bilingual person I’ve spent any serious amount of time with that won’t eventually begin trading all the good words with me in our native languages. What’s up with that?”

“I don’t- That’s- _Phichit!_ ” Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from laughing at this point. It was true; it was practically inevitable that when the bilingual students at the university all crammed into a room together the conversation would eventually turn to talk about the weird aspects of their shared languages and a barter-system pertaining to learning all the less savory words.

Yuuri usually tried to make his exit before things got too racy because he didn’t want to be asked to translate some things in front of a group of people. 

Phichit, of course, seemed to thrive on those sorts of interactions. Younger than Yuuri and not even an official university student yet, having just completed his high school credits via distance learning, Phichit still had a habit of incorporating himself smoothly into any group. It was a skill that Yuuri sometimes envied and other times the mere thought was met with dismay.

Phichit, laughing with him, held out his hand, “Well, Yuuri? Do we have a deal?”

Yuuri shook his head but held out his hand to clap Phichit’s. “Fine. But I’m not going to forget about your language-learning priorities. And _no_ recording me when I teach you!” 

** ** **

“Yuuri, I distinctly remember instructing you to head home and rest.”

Yuuri flinched and spun around until he caught sight of Celestino waiting by the side of the rink, arms crossed over his chest and concerned frown etched across his features.

“Yes, Coach. I will. I just… needed to come out and run through my program again.”

Yuuri could see Celestino pressed his lips into a thin line for several long moments before he replied, “And what have you determined?”

“It went… fine. I don’t know why I can do it here and couldn’t during the competition. Everything flowed and I didn’t get wrapped up in-“ Yuuri flung his arms up in the air in helpless frustration.

“If you’d skated the way you did just now at the competition, what do you think would have happened?”

“I would have won.” Hearing himself, Yuuri’s eyes widened and he slapped a hand over his mouth for a moment before rushing on. “I- I mean- There were many great skaters there, Crispino, Giacometti, and now that Phichit has debuted in the senior division… It certainly wasn’t a guarantee, I know that. I would never take it for granted-“

“I agree, Yuuri,” Celestino cut him off. “You’d have gotten off the plane and headed back to celebrate your gold medal rather than heading straight to the rink to pick apart your program and find flaws that aren’t there.”

“There must be something I can change or work on before the next tournament, I just need to figure out what. It’s just everything feels so much different when I’m surrounded by the crowds and all the other competitors…”

“They’re impressive opponents, Yuuri, but regardless of their skill, your biggest rival is yourself. And, right now, I don’t think that either of us has figured out to help you to deal with that.” With that rather damning statement, Celestino made to leave Yuuri to continue his solo practice on the ice. He stopped a few steps later and turned back to Yuuri. “I won’t give up, though, Yuuri. I know you are capable of so much. And I hope you won’t give up either.”

Making eye contact with Celestino, Yuuri brightened slightly and offered a weak smile. “No, Coach. I won’t give up. Ever.”

** ** **

“I love her, man. I love her. Don’t tell anybody.”

“Believe me, I won’t,” Yuuri replied with a roll of his eyes. This was the third girl Joe had “fallen in love with” since Yuuri had met him at the beginning of the semester through his rinkmate, Joe’s current roommate, Sam.

“You’re so easy to talk to, Yuuri!” Joe drew out the vowels in Yuuri’s name as he spoke them, finally ending on a hiccuping giggle, clearly terribly amused at himself. Yuuri noted that it was still the closest to the proper pronunciation of his name that Joe the Bro had ever managed.

“Why am I not surprised?” Yuuri muttered.

** ** **

“Come on, Yuuri! I set up accounts for you, painstakingly built profiles for you, helped you take profile pictures, chose themes and color schemes, I practically created your entire online presence!” Phichit flung himself into his back across Yuuri’s unmade bed with one arm thrown over his face dramatically. “How can you let those accounts languish like this? All of my hard work!”

Yuuri just stared at Phichit, wide-eyed, until Phichit, growing impatient, peeked out from behind his arm and then grinned when he realized he was caught. He dropped the faux-heartbroken tone and laughed at Yuuri’s narrowing eyes.

“Come on, I really did make it so easy for you to have an online presence. Don’t you want to interact with your family? Your friends? Your _fans?_ ” Phichit paused for a moment, thinking, before adopting a sly tone. “Victor?”

“Phichit!”

“He is very active on social media, Yuuri.”

Yuuri cleared his throat and flailed his hands a few times as though pushing away Phichit’s words. “My family doesn’t really use social media outside of what they absolutely have to for the inn and I talk to them on the phone. And if I want to talk to you I can just walk to your room. I text Yuuko and Takeshi, and get picture updates of the kids from them all the time, so they’re not missing out on anything.”

“Your fans would absolutely love to see you actually inviting them into your life, even in a small way like this, Yuuri.”

“I don’t really think-“

“You have fan blogs, Yuuri,” Phichit interrupted. “You cannot possibly sit there and tell me no one would be interested when you get fan mail and art and _pages on the internet entirely dedicated to you and your ass!_ ”

“Oh my god.” Yuuri dropped his face into his hands, but he figured his burning face would still be visible from orbit. “I think you maybe need to take a break from the internet for a while, Phichit.”

Phichit snorted. “As if. And I noticed you didn’t mention anything about Victor, Yuuri. You admire him so much, I can’t believe you wouldn’t try to emulate him like that, too.”

“Victor Nikiforov would never notice me in a million years, whether I update social media once a year or once a minute.”

Phichit rolled his eyes.

“Why do you like it so much?” Yuuri asked.

“What?” From Phichit’s tone of voice, Yuuri’s question was obviously nearly incomprehensible.

“It just seems like a lot of work and putting myself out there on the internet seems like a terrible risk-reward balance. Why do you do it?”

Phichit leaned back on his arms and looked at the ceiling in thought for several moments. “Do you ever get homesick?”

Yuuri was slightly taken aback. Where had that question come from? “Yeah, all the time.”

“Me, too. A lot.”

Yuuri raised his eyebrows and looked more closely at Phichit’s face.

“It’s not something I tell people, really. Traveling and training and competing are really exciting. I like new places and new experiences. I want to try everything at least once.” Phichit paused again, shrugging his shoulders before continuing. “But I miss home and my family a lot. I miss the familiar places I grew up with, and I miss feeling like I just fit in. There’s nothing like running across a word I’ve never heard before or listening to people play the guessing game of where I’m from and inevitably getting it wrong to make me feel very, very far away from home.”

“I… yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“I figured you would.” Phichit met Yuuri’s eyes. “Anyways, being on social media helps me feel more grounded, believe it or not. I can connect with everyone back at home, see pictures of all the big and little happenings in Thailand, be reminded of everything I love about it and it helps me feel like I still belong. And when I go back I’ll still feel like I can stay close to everyone I’ve met here and through skating. It means I don’t have to lose people just because I move away.”

The pin, so long held in the air, finally drops. “Oh, Phichit! Are you worried that when we leave Detroit we won’t talk to or see each other again?”

“I guess, maybe?” Phichit answers, chewing on his thumbnail. “You’re one of my best friends, Yuuri. Someday we’re going to want to move away from here, whether it’s in a year or two when you graduate or after we both retire, but I don’t want us to be the sort of ‘friends’ who wave at each other at competitions and that’s it.”

“You are one of my closest friends, Phichit, and I don’t have enough of those to spare to not work at staying in touch, whether we live across an apartment or across the world from each other. Even if I don’t use facebook or instagram to do it.”

“Facebook. Oh, Yuuri.” Phichit shook his head, despairingly. 

“Shut up,” Yuuri answered, a smile breaking out across his face, and lobbed a piece of crumpled paper at his friend.

Phichit batted the paper back to Yuuri and they managed to keep it in the air for several passes before one of Phichit’s hits went wide and Yuuri wasn’t able to reach it without risking dumping himself off the chair. 

“Well, your old-fashioned habits aside, I’m glad to hear it. But I still think you should enter this century someday and learn the art of the selfie.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Duly noted.”


	5. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter references alcohol use and abuse.

_“Here’s to alcohol: the cause of, and answer to, all of life’s problems.”_ -Matt Groening

**

Yuuri was far from perfect, he knew. He didn’t have all the answers. (He didn’t have _most_ of the answers.) And sometimes, when you are trying to somehow recover your own life and sense of self-worth, it’s best not to borrow the troubles of others.

There are some ways to achieve this end that are better than others, however.

** ** **

Yuuri didn’t even have to open his eyes to know that he had made a terrible, terrible mistake. And it wasn’t forgetting to close the curtains of his hotel room to block the painfully bright rays of sunlight from assaulting his poor brain, even through his closed eyelids.

He pulled a pillow over his head, wincing at how even that small weight was more than his head wanted to handle right now, and gratefully sank back into dreams accompanied by the oddest sense-memory of another slight weight across his shoulders.

** 

The next time Yuuri awoke, he groaned so vehemently and for so long that he wasn’t sure if he was grateful or disappointed that there was no one else there to observe his misery.

Why was he so sore? 

Oh. Right. Massive failure in competition and personal humiliation in front of millions. That would explain it.

He managed to drag himself into the bathroom, only wincing slightly at the light piercing his brain anew when he hit the switch. He peed for a nearly alarmingly long time, washed his hands and face while hunched over the sink, and swished mouthwash for a few seconds after he registered the wretchedness of his own breath and then failed to locate his toothbrush.

Finally forcing himself to look in the mirror, Yuuri winced, hit the lightswitch again, and forced himself to remain upright long enough to make it to the bed before collapsing.

He didn’t spend much time wondering at the weird bed head he’d managed to achieve (had he tied a bow around his head to make it weirdly flat in some places and absurdly puffy on top?), why his tie was hanging from the lampshade, or considering the odd ghost-sensation of lips against his ear that caused a shiver to run up his spine.

**  
_  
“Hey Yuuri, have you tried this yet? It’s my favorite even though everyone here thinks it’s a bottom-shelf drink-”_

_“Hey, Yuuri, I’ve always wanted to learn-”_

_“I can’t believe he had the nerve to bring_ her _here tonight, I don’t know how I’m going to-”_

_“Can I tell you something?”_

_“I’ve never-”_

_“Hey, Katsuki-”  
_

This time, without the help of a _lot_ of booze, Yuuri’s sleep was fitful. Or maybe _because_ of the champagne?

Dreams are weird.

**

When he finally dragged himself out of bed for good, mostly thanks to Celestino’s delivery of a strong coffee and a stern lecture, Yuuri tried in vain to make sense of how his night had gone.

His gear had been carefully packed away yesterday before the banquet, so in theory all Yuuri had to wrangle were his clothing and toiletries, but even that seemed to be too Herculean a task for the day since he couldn’t even track down all the clothes he’d brought. 

Where the hell were his good slacks? He’d just worn them last night at the banquet, so it’s not as if he’d had much time to lose something as important as that, right?

Yuuri stuffed the last of his things into his suitcase, closed it with a sigh, and levered himself upright and out of the room. If he kept Celestino waiting any longer and made them miss their flight, he’d never live it down, so the lost clothing would have to be a sacrifice to the spirits of inebriation and memory-loss.

As he waited for a free elevator, Yuuri tried to think back on the night before, but came up with nothing more than a few fuzzy images and even fuzzier fragments of conversation.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d forgotten something incredibly important. 

Or possibly many somethings.


	6. Interlude II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains references to depression and anxiety, thoughts-spirals, and negative self-image.

_”You get hit the hardest when trying to run or hide from a problem.”_ -Criss Jami

**

Sometimes, things in life just didn’t work out, and you had to figure out how to accept that and move on.

It definitely wasn’t the same as running away though.

Definitely.

(Or perhaps healing and running away both point in the same direction.)

** ** **

When Yuuri finally made his much-agonized-over decision, he gathered his courage and set off to find Celestino.

Or, well. After he was done crying. Again.

Unsurprisingly, he found Celestino at the rink. What _was_ surprising was that his coach was out on the otherwise-empty ice, skating lazy circles and loops punctuated by the occasional burst of choreography. Though Yuuri had benefitted from Celestino’s knowledgeable coaching himself, and was aware that Celestino is a former competitor, Yuuri had only rarely seen Celestino take to the ice, and certainly not without the express purpose of demonstrating something for a student.

Among Celestino’s multiple lectures was the one on the importance of listening to one’s body and not allowing the drive for improvement to topple over into dangerous territory. That was one lecture that neither he nor Phichit had the heart to tease Celestino for, knowing that his abrupt departure from competition still pained him to this day.

“Coach?”

Celestino skated to a stop and turned to face Yuuri. Celestino just looked at him for a moment before skating over to the retaining wall to meet Yuuri, and Yuuri could see his lips pressed into a straight line and an solemn expression in his eyes.

“So you’ve made a decision, Yuuri?”

Damn. Yuuri had wondered if Celestino had suspected that Yuuri was grappling with his plan for his future, but this clinched it. Of course, after years as his coach, Yuuri should have known that Celestino would know at least some of the inner workings of Yuuri’s mind.

If only he’d known how to keep Yuuri’s brain from betraying him when the stress of his life and competition became too much…

No. He’d come here for a reason and Yuuri was determined to see this through.

“Yes, Coach. I’ve decided to step back from the remainder of the season. I’m not sure what I’ll do for the next, but for now…” Yuuri trailed off, the spectre of his unknown future looming before him.

“But for now, you’re done.” Celestino voiced it as a statement, not a question.

Yuuri shook his head to focus himself. “Yes. I’m finishing up the last of the credits I need for graduation and then I’m going to go home. It’s… it’s been a while. I don’t know if it will even feel like home anymore, but I just need to be-” Yuuri cut himself off with a shrug and a sigh. “Not here.”

“Ah, Yuuri.” Celestino also sighed, reaching out to clasp Yuuri’s shoulder for a brief moment. “I am sorry to see you go, but I will support your decision anyways. And I will be happy to welcome you back if you choose to return.”

Yuuri nodded, though the thought made his muscles clench and the world around him waver for a moment before righting itself.

“Will you join me for one last lap around the rink?”

Yuuri hesitated, but then nodded. He’d thought he wouldn’t want to even look at an ice rink after his disappointing show at Nationals, but he’d brought his gear with him anyways. Perhaps a part of his mind had known he would need to say a final goodbye.

He didn’t bother changing into practice clothes, having no intention of performing any fancy moves requiring flexibility, so Celestino had only a short wait before Yuuri joined him in the ice with a smooth glide away from the barrier.

They skated in silence for a full lap before Celestino’s voice broke the quiet. “I miss competing. I’m not talking about missing my youth or flexibility or any of that, though I won’t deny those, either” Yuuri caught a ghost of a smile on Celestino’s lips. 

“I mean that I miss the rush of preparing for a competition, of fine-tuning a routine to make it my own. That feeling of stepping onto the ice with a crowd cheering for me, or holding their breath in anticipation.” Celestino skated a few strokes ahead of Yuuri before turning to face him while skating backwards. “There’s nothing quite like it.”

Yuuri’s stomach clenched into knots. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t meet Celestino’s eyes. This was a terrible idea. He should have just told-

“I don’t say this to second guess your decision or criticize you, Yuuri, but to tell you that you may feel this way too one day, when the tide of your current feeling recedes. I know you feel betrayed. By the ice, by your body, your dreams, everything. You probably can’t even remember what that exciting rush feels like right now.”

Shoulders sagging, Yuuri shook his head minutely. He definitely didn’t remember that feeling, but… He’s not sure he ever did. Or at least not since he was a kid barely wobbling out onto the ice. He’s not like Celestino, Phichit, or certainly not Victor-

“But you will, eventually, remember why you decided to seriously pursue skating in the first place, and I want you to know that whatever you decide to do, you will be fine.”

Yuuri’s eyes shot up to finally meet Celestino’s, the loud rushing in his ears receding slightly.

“To devote yourself so fully to a sport that can easily take over your entire life, it can be hard to realize that there is more to you than figure skating. But there is. It took a while, but I did eventually learn that secret. After I left competition I discovered that I like going to trendy restaurants, swimming, and teaching others who love skating as much as I do.” Celestino smiled again, his face softening considerably with the expression. “I learned that even though I still miss the thrill of competing myself, helping others discover their strengths and reach their potential as skaters can bring a very similar rush that is just as satisfying.”

Yuuri felt a small portion of the fear that weighed him down lift from his shoulders and breathed the tiniest bit easier. He offered a weak smile, not nearly a match for Celestino’s. “Thanks, Coach. For everything.” He turned towards the exit, hesitating briefly when he heard his name.

“You’ll learn to love it again. Being a skater, love for the ice, the artist’s heart? Those never leave you, even when you leave competition behind.”

Yuuri nodded but didn’t turn around. He felt a few tears escape as he skated towards the barrier. To feel just love for skating and himself, without the poison of fear, anxiety, or disappointment coloring his every move? 

Right now, Yuuri couldn’t imagine what that would be like. Still, he desperately hoped that Celestino was right.


	7. Interlude III

_"No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those who are thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth."_ -Robert Southey

**

Denial and avoidance rarely solved problems in any positive way. Particularly when the problem in question was that of telling your best friend and roommate that you are set on your plan to go home for more than just a long-delayed visit.

How do you even begin to explain how you could leave behind everything that you had both worked so hard to achieve?

And more, could you even bear to weather his response, whatever it may be?

** ** **

Yuuri knew that despite Phichit’s words of support and fierce hug after hearing of Yuuri’s plan to withdraw from the remainder of the competitive season, he’d held out hope that Yuuri would change his mind after finally completing his university course load and decide to use the off season to prepare his comeback alongside Phichit’s own Grand Prix bid.

“Hey, Yuuri, did you mean to leave this on the printer-” When Phichit’s words abruptly cut off, Yuuri knew that he’d registered the boxes scattered across the floor and could barely bring himself to glance at his friend.

Phichit sighed and placed the paper in his hand - likely the confirmation of Yuuri’s completion of all the coursework necessary for his degree - onto Yuuri’s uncharacteristically cluttered desk and then sat on Yuuri’s bed in silence to watch as Yuuri threw a few items into the box marked ‘donate.’

After several quiet minutes and the dispersal of items into the ‘ship’ and ‘throw away’ boxes, Yuuri finally heard Phichit sigh. 

“Textbooks in a pile to try to sell back at the bookstore or online?” Phichit’s voice was steady and kind, and Yuuri wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.

“Yes please.”

They worked steadily for another twenty minutes, only intruding on the silence when Phichit needed to confirm which box certain items should go into or when he offered to begin organizing the ‘ship’ box Tetris style, using some of Yuuri’s practice clothes to cushion breakable items.

“I’m going to miss you.”

Yuuri didn’t respond to Phichit’s statement. Couldn’t respond. 

“The past couple of years have been pretty big for me, Yuuri. Learning how to get along in a new country and using a different language, learning how to be a good roommate and live with someone outside of my family, figuring out how to become the best skater I can be… You’ve been here for all of that. You’ve _helped_ with all of that. It means a lot.”

Yuuri could only stare at the pile of old school notes in his lap, words swimming in front of his downcast, tearing eyes.

He heard a scramble from Phichit’s direction before feeling an arm fall across his shoulders and found himself pulled against Phichit’s side.

“Don’t cry, Yuuri. Or, well, cry all you want, actually, don’t hold things in. But I mean that... I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just wanted you to know. You’re my best friend. Whether you’re in the next room or in Japan, that won’t change.”

Yuuri heaved in a sigh and rubbed a hand across his eyes. “Thanks, Phichit. And, um. You, too.”

“I know.”

Yuuri looked up to catch the only slightly wobbly smile on Phichit’s face and snorted softly in response.

“And I’m going to hold you to your promise! We will keep in touch after you leave. Even if it’s just with old-fashioned methods like phone calls.” Phichit punctuated his teasing with a gentle pinch, laughing at Yuuri’s yelp and attempt to scramble away. “Though the occasionally Instagram post wouldn’t kill you, either. Come here, we need to post a selfie. I need to stock up on ‘Evasive Yuuri’ posts while I can.”

Phichit dragged Yuuri into the frame next to him, ignoring Yuuri’s protests.

To be fair, Yuuri didn’t protest very hard.


	8. Adulthood, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains very vague references to depression.

_“Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets.”_ – Paul Tournier

**

For some, coming home isn’t at all what they expected.

For others, it can take mere minutes to learn and settle into the new variation on an old routine. The comfort of knowing that you _can_ come home again is a balm to the soul when none other would do.

** ** **

After a luxurious and long-overdue soak in the hot spring, Yuuri gathered his courage and joined his mother as she worked in the kitchen.

She beckoned him inside with a smile and pulled him into a warm hug before pushing him towards a stool at a nearby counter and set him up with a pile of vegetables and a peeler. Hiroko washed her hands again and returned to her task, chattering to Yuuri all of the local updates she’d saved up from their last conversation, somehow knowing that Yuuri wasn’t yet able to reciprocate and not demanding much of his participation beyond the occasional huff or laugh.

It felt… more comfortable than Yuuri had expected, actually. He’d been afraid that he would feel like a complete stranger in his family home. That he would find it to be yet another place where he just didn’t seem to fit.

It was a near spine-melting relief to find that his fears in this, at least, would be unrealized.

After his mother’s updates had dwindled and she’d nodded her approval of his tidy pile of vegetables, she finished her meal preparations and joined Yuuri at the counter with a mug of tea for each of them. Yuuri noted with concern that his mother hadn’t ever had time for much of a rest break at this time of day in the past, and worried at this further evidence of Hasetsu’s declining business. Despite his concern, Yuuri hesitated to shatter the gentle comfort of the afternoon with his mother, his first in far too long,

“It’s so nice to have you here with us for a while, my Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s smiled back at his mother’s happy face, trying not to let the strain of the added “for a while” show on his face. He hadn’t told his parents what his plans for the future were, of course. How could he when he hadn’t figured it out yet himself? 

“I know how hard you’ve been working, dear, and I am so proud of you! But, I’m still glad that we get to have you to ourselves for a bit.” Hiroko placed a hand on Yuuri’s arm and leaned in conspiratorially. “Don’t tell your father I said this, since he thinks I’m just being silly with my worries, but I was sometimes afraid that skating would steal you away from us forever, never to be seen again!” 

His mother laughed and let her gaze flash towards the sky to indicate the silliness of the secret fear she’d shared, but Yuuri couldn’t share in her humor, try though he might. He knew his mother loved him and was fiercely proud of his accomplishments in all ways. But he also knew that she didn’t truly understand the nature of the figure skating world and how very short the competitive careers of even the very best skaters were. 

...And how much shorter than that Yuuri’s career, such that it’s been, likely would be. 

“It’s good to be here with you, too, Mom. I’ve missed you so much.”

Hiroko clapped her hands together before pulling Yuuri against her once again in a tight hug, even better than those Yuuri remembered from his childhood.

He still had so much thinking to do and decisions to make. But one thing was certain: Yuuri had needed this, badly, for a long time. Coming back… coming _home_ was the right thing to do.

** ** **

It’s amazing how one moment he could feel transcendent, filled with a serenity he couldn’t describe to anyone who didn’t love the ice as he did, and mere minutes later he could feel the truth of himself fall upon him again, slumping his shoulders and weighing upon more than just his body. 

On the ice, while performing Victor Nikiforov’s program, Yuuri could feel the love that had always fuelled him as he pursued this mad career. Standing there and explaining to Yuuko his resolve to figure out how to love skating again, he’d felt a sense of clarity and determination he hadn’t experienced in a long while.

Sitting in the stands with his glasses on, huddled into his coat, and staring at the empty ice in the darkened rink… Well. It was harder to remember what had made him think he could ever possibly achieve the sort of dreams that so very few athletes ever accomplished.

Yuuri sat alone for several minutes until Yuuko finished her closing-up duties and clambered into the stands to join him.

“I’ve sent the kids back home to do their chores and prepare for school tomorrow.” Yuuko sat down next to Yuuri with a huff. “I’m sorry, Yuuri. They really are sweet kids, and they worship the ice you skate on. I think the excitement of having you back home and being able to see you perform got to be too much for them. They’ll calm down soon.” Yuuko cocked her head to the side and shrugged. “Probably.”

“My novelty will wear off soon, I’m sure.”

“We’ll see.” Yuuko’s voice had an odd note to it, but before Yuuri could question her about it, she continued, “That was incredible, Yuuri. To be able to recreate Victor’s program like that-”

“Try to recreate, you mean,” Yuuri interrupted. “I had to downgrade Victor’s quads.”

“So what? You still nailed the routine aside from that, and you told the story so beautifully. You always did have a way of bringing your skating to life unlike anyone else I’ve ever known.” Yuuko’s smile was wide and sincere.

Yuuri blushed. “Thanks, Yuuko.”

After several moments of waiting, Yuuko apparently realized that Yuuri would need prompting to carry on their conversation. “So, tell me about all of your ice skating adventures! The girls and I watched the ladies singles free skate yesterday and none of us could take our eyes off the screen. What’s it like competing at that level? Have you met any of the women competitors?”

“I didn’t have many adventures, Yuuko, and competition is…” Yuuri shrugged. How could he even begin to explain it, even to someone like Yuuko who used to compete and understood the world of figure skating? “Exciting? Terrifying… nauseating.”

Yuuko cut off his recitation by bumping her shoulder against his with a soft laugh. “Oh Yuuri.”

“I did meet a few of the other skaters at competitions and press events and things.”

Yuuko perked up, her eyes shining. Have you met Mila Babicheva? Oooh! Or Sara Crispino? Or Miyu Hisakawa?”

“Yes to all three. I’ve only ever seen Mila in passing, but I’ve spoken to both of the Crispinos before and even competed against Mickey a couple times. Miyu and I have met several times at competitions and press events, especially here in Japan. She’s very nice. Very… intense.”

Yuuko clasped her hands under her chin, practically vibrating with renewed energy. “They’re all amazing, Watching them last night brought back so many memories.” She sighed heavily. “I always wondered…”

Yuuri waited, but Yuuko didn’t pick up her thought. “What?” he prompted.

“Well, you know. What would have happened if I’d stayed in competition. If I’d tried to continue on, like you did. Could I have been there next to you and Miyu as one of Japan’s top skaters?”

“Of course you could!” Yuuri exclaimed, loyally. “But, umm, I thought you were- Are you-” Yuuri cut himself off awkwardly, unsure of how to phrase his thoughts.

Yuuko shook her head. “Disappointed? No. I’m happy here in Hasetsu with Takeshi and the girls. I like the stability my life gives me, which I don’t think I’d have had with skating.” Yuuko’s hand fluttered a bit as she collected her thoughts and she glanced around quickly, as though in the habit of checking for a trio of eavesdroppers. “But I do wonder, sometimes. What would it have been like? If I could have made a career performing instead of teaching and managing.”

Uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation and unsure of the right thing to say, Yuuri floundered a bit before replying. “I- Well… I think you could have done it. You work hard and are dedicated, and you were always beautiful on the ice, Yuuko. And it can’t have been harder than raising the triplets, right?”

Yuuko burst out laughing, nearly doubling over with the strength of it. “Indeed not!” she gasped, nearly breathless. “Though they certainly require a number of additional skills to manage.”

“I can only imagine.” _Thank goodness,_ Yuuri thought.

“Thank goodness,” Yuuko’s voice echoed his own thoughts, and when her eyes met his, Yuuri knew she’d read his mind, and began to laugh along with her.

“Ah, well,” Yuuko said when she’d finally gotten her laughter under control. “I’m glad that I’m here, and that you’re here now, too. I can continue to teach the next generation of young Yuuris with a light heart.

“Those young Yuuris are lucky to have you, Yuuko. Just like I was.”

Apparently it was Yuuko’s turn to blush.

** ** **

Still panting after an attempt to renew his off-ice training in one of the onsen’s gardens, Yuuri entered the kitchen to find a bowl of katsudon waiting for him, courtesy of his mother. After he’d finished and washed his dishes - and quite a few others while he was at it - his father waved him onto the sofa beside him to watch a soccer match late into the night.

During the setup for a penalty shot, Toshiya confessed softly to Yuuri, “Your mother doesn’t let me into the kitchen to help her tidy up at the end of the day because she doesn’t want me to miss out on a good match. She doesn’t know that most of these games are recorded.”

Yuuri made eye contact with his dad and they shared a smile.

** ** **

When the game went into overtime, Yuuri bid his father goodnight and stopped by the kitchen to find his mother sipping her last cup of tea of the day.

“Your father thinks I don’t know that he’s not watching live games in there,” Hiroko smiles indulgently when Yuuri freezes, not wanting his reaction to incriminate his father. “Of course I know. But he works hard and I want him to enjoy his time in the evenings.”

“That’s kind of you, Mom,” Yuuri said, kissing her on the forehead and accepting a hug in return.

“Yes, well, he gets up in the morning to start the breakfast and prep for the day so I can sleep in a while and read a chapter or two of my novels, so I’d say it evens out.” Hiroko sighs contentedly and drains the last of her mug. “Even when you take pride and satisfaction in your job, my Yuuri, it’s good to have little breaks and indulgences to remind you of why you _do_ your job.”

** ** **

Although the triplets were banned from social media for the foreseeable future (which Yuuri predicted would last for all of a week, _maybe_ ) and Yuuko had threatened to cut them off from their skating streams if they so much as put another toepick out of line, they hadn’t been barred from his presence, and had even taken it upon themselves to be his escort to and from practice, acting as motivational speakers… and sometimes drill instructors.

“Keep going, Yuuri!” yelled Lutz, skipping around him as Yuuri contemplated a snack from the convenience store. 

The attendant grinned when she saw him, pointing to a poster - of _him_ , he was embarrassed to note - and flashing him an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Yuuri waved and smiled reluctantly before he hunched into his jacket and continued on after the girls.

He endured several more comments about the video and Victor Nikiforov, though fortunately no one stopped him to chat at length, perhaps warned off by the small gaggle of chattering Nishigoris that accompanied him.

“Hey, Yuuri! I saw the video of you copying that Victor boy you’ve always admired so much! Glad to see you skate again!” Yuuri’s Junior High principal called out as they passed by the bench he was resting on while reading a paper.

Yuuri called out a weak thanks and shuffled on down the street, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone else who might want to talk about his most recent humiliation.

Lutz and Loop ran on ahead, alternately squabbling and laughing with each other, but Axel stuck by Yuuri like glue, turning to glower back at the oblivious man and even stomping her feet a little.

“Just because you look or act like someone else doesn’t mean that you aren’t yourself,” Axel grumbled. 

“What?” Yuuri asked, startled. 

“I mean, everyone is acting like you were just trying to _be_ Victor Nikiforov! But you _weren’t_! You were showing that you could skate his routine, but as _you_.”

Yuuri was surprised, both at Axel’s words and the vehemence with which she spoke.

Yuuri wasn’t sure that his reasons would be understandable to a six year-old, but given how incensed Axel seemed to be about the reactions she’d observed, he felt he had to try to explain. “Well, I _was_ skating Victor’s routine, Axel. Your mom and I used to do that when we were young. It was good practice and a lot of fun. I wanted to remember why I started skating seriously in the first place and what it was like to just enjoy myself.” 

“I know, mom told us.” She put her hands on her hips. “And I’m glad you are having fun skating, because skating is the best and I want you to skate in events again. But it’s not nice when people don’t give you credit or act like you did any work yourself. Or when they mix you up with other people and don’t bother to try to see _you_.”

Oh. 

_Oh._

Yuuri glanced up at Axel’s sisters ahead of them and wondered if they had the same struggles with their identity and independence as Axel had just revealed. 

“I know that it can hurt when people don’t seem to see you, Axel. A lot of times they just don’t know any better.” Yuuri smiled at her in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “But the people who matter will try, and they are the most valuable”

“Hmmph.” 

Axel didn’t seem quite satisfied with that thought, but she did stay at Yuuri’s side as he resumed the trek to the ice rink. She was quiet for a full minute before her scowling face softened and she reached for his hand.

“Mom and Dad always know. And Mari and Minako.” 

After another few moments of contemplation, Axel finally grinned, turning her face up to his. “And you’re getting pretty good at it, too, Yuuri!”

Yuuri laughed and squeezed her hand as they began to climb the steps to Ice Castle. “Well, I tend to work pretty hard at the things that are important to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more family time now that Yuuri has returned to Hasetsu, but rest assured, the next section will include Victor's long-awaited arrival. I am definitely nervous about these next several chapters since they cover the time frame of the show itself. I did receive my box set of the show, though, so hopefully being able to check things more easily will help with my nerves.
> 
> Also, I do plan to do a full and proper edit of this piece once it is complete. Every time I catch an error in a prior part I cringe a bit inside. *flappy hands*

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to read your reactions and thoughts on these vignettes - comments mean a lot and are incredibly uplifting!


End file.
